Love’s War (Poem #165)

Do you believe in love, baby?Because I do.

I believe in blue skies, with flower crowns, and birds chirping so soft you could swoon.

I believe in soft water, with warm sand, filled with sweet wine kisses.

I believe in gentle touches, on sunny days, with breezes bringing in playful laughter.

But baby boy, love isn’t always dreams of tomorrow’s but nights filled with terrors.

Those nights when tears stain hearts more than fists break the walls.

If I could spit knives, I would lay waist to souls.

Because with love comes heartache, and heartache carries grenades.

We dream of sunshine than run when we see rain.

But baby love is also rain clouds, and muffled sobs buried in a warm embrace.

It is feeling warm tears break cold stares, holding clenched fists so tight we noticed we stopped breathing at the same time.

Baby doll your love gave me ammunition to wage war on souls!

I became stronger with love on ground weaker with fear.

I will walk through the trenches of long sleepless nights, enter no man’s land of silent nights shivering from cold shoulders across the bed, as long as the only words I ever have to fire with certainty are “I do”.

You see handsome, falling does not scare me being a lone soldier fighting for an uncertain love breaks my soul.

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A letter to my lonely lover(Poem #157)

A letter to my lonely lover,

Warning,

this is not a love letter you will grin at as you read it like a poem each night…

No this is a letter of precaution,

Because I can only lay my head on the collarbone of your broken heart,

Attempt to hear the melody behind mismatched breathing.

I can not hear the way your breaths playing against your ribs like wind-chimes echoing the emptiness that is inside you,

No I can not hear that.

I can not feel the clattering of bones beneath me shaking at their own loneliness.

Nor understand that the reason you twitch right before you fall asleep is because your body  needs to remind you that you are more than a skeleton waiting to rot.

Laying here I don’t see any of that…

I understand what it feels like to have every ounce of your soul ache for intimacy,

But can not seem to grasp it or find it in this world.

Because we locked our hearts away in our rib cage,

and then threw away the key….

It’s not like we don’t know where the key is,

We do,

We memorized the seconds between bounces and exactly where it landed.

But out of sight equals out of mind,

And I can finally pretend that my heart isn’t resting on the bottom of my stomach,

crying out to be fixed like a broken birds wing.

No!

I will not feel that,

and neither will you…

So we try to find comfort in moments that will only land milliseconds in our brains,

And sleep in god knows how many other people’s beds because we have forgotten why it felt right to sleep alone…

But it’s not that we don’t feel it,

We do,

But we pretend that we don’t feel it,

We want to feel like we are a whole person laying beside yet another one night stand,

and that is it!

But when we wake up in the morning,

your face won’t give me comfort,

and I will look in the mirror to see exactly who I was yesterday staring back at me,

I want to punch the glass so that I bleed,

because bleeding makes sense,

that is what happens when you are hurt,

you bleed and you scar…

But not when it’s your heart.

Instead my eyes they bleed tears…and tears dry,

And it’s hard to explain why your hurting when what your body is bleeding in misery is only visible to you…

So I will crawl back in bed with you,

I will kiss you on the lips,

Say I had a good time,

Rest my head again on your chest pretending that the heartbeat I hear is simply that…

Just a heart beat…

Because if I read too much into it then I know I will do something stupid,

like kiss you again, but this time it will be different because it will mean something,

because for that millisecond my heart will drop a feather outside my ribcage reminding me that I can still feel.

But I don’t want that.

I would rather live in the graveyard of my hollow chest,

then give you the power to send my heart back to hell!

That’s the scary thing about laying next to a broken lover…

They make you realize how broken YOU truly are…

The reality of the “perfect man”(Poem #153)

I’m tired of boys telling me I’m worth it,

When they only walk away.

Because you were the 13th boy to lay hands on me,

with little to no intention to stay.

I guess I should be used to it,

hearing those ringing words,

“You deserve the world!”

Yet the world fell at your hands

Because even though you say I am worth it,

I still feel second hand.

like the canvas you laid paint on,

but you wish you never had,

because the picture that we painted,

though it truly wasn’t bad,

didn’t quite breath perfection to your life.

No the image was all too real,

not like the fairytales that I had waited so long for.

No my canvas has been broken, and ripped, and torn.

My edges are all rough, no longer soft and smooth.

So stop telling me I’m worth it,

that the perfect man exists…

Because the perfect man wants a new canvas,

not one he has to fix…

The notion of emotion (Poem #96)

The overall notion of simply caring about emotion

and how other people feel

used to be a foundation that philosophers and aristocrats stood upon.

Rather than partaking in a society like ours,

that is filled with people asking “how are you”

but not giving a damn about the answer less than five seconds after the words protrude their mouth.

We simply disregard the importance of human emotion

which is the pinnacle differentiation of our existence

and place in our crumbling world.

We treat is as if human beings have to work toward us caring about them,

and must be worthy enough to even get the grace of a single tear from others when their world is ripping seems,

all that matters is that there is rain one the horizons of ours sky’s,

and our sorrow fill the air with the only availability to breath concern for one person;

and every time that one person will be ourselves.

Because being selfless isn’t a virtue,

it is an inconveniences….

And God forbid my existence should even shed a droplet on your sunny day.

Society wonders why we live in a world filled with people,

yet people feel so alone that their best friends become knives,

their lovers become pills and drugs,

where darkness is the haven that will shortly bring them to the point where the question is in the form of a bullet

and the answer is the gun.

Society your answer doesn’t lie in the pills or therapy…

the answer lies in front of you…

hell it is attached to you…

the only organ that provides life to the masses.

Society the answer is the thing we dare to suppress

by saying it is to feminine and weak.

Well fuck you society,

because those of us who give a damn to give a fuck about others can see,

the real problem is not that we are too weak as a people,

the problem in society is that people stopped believing the genuinely caring is actually a thing.

The theory behind love (Poem #89)

The concept of love is a very strange theory,

yet we find comfort in the idea,

of giving someone the power

to take the one most precious thing we own

and ripe it to shred it it til it is no longer recognizable.

Because in the end it is worth it,

for if it does not tear you apart,

it will make you fly.

Til then…(Poem #72)

I wish I felt something more than what I do,

That every-time I saw you my heart didn’t ache a little more…

but it does,

and it always will.

Because even though you don’t love me how I want you to,

I still cling to the aching hope that someday you will…

The whisper that Outweighs the Screams (Poem #71)

Mentally I understand it,

My brain can tell me a thousand times,

but my heart won’t listen,

it muffles out the screams,

and replaces them with whispers that echo through my soul.

I don’t know if that is a good thing,

or if all it will do is drive me insane…

Because my mind is screaming “HE DOESN’T WANT YOU!”

But my heart still clings to “Maybe someday he will……”

Heartache Daily (Poem #69)

I’d rip my heart out for you daily,

yet I can’t get a night in return,

so tell me why I love you,

and give you everything I deserve,

when you can’t love me,

because you aren’t willing to see,

that even though I hurt you,

I do know what love truly means…

So maybe someday you will accept that,

or maybe you will never know,

but my heart breaks a little everyday

the more I have to let you go,

and the saddest thing ever,

is that you will never see,

me ripping my heart out for you

while you are standing right in front of me.

Let me tell you my story….(Poem #66)

Pain isn’t a feeling,

it is a disease,

It spreads…..it’s contagious,

It is stronger than me.

Because pain,

it knows your heartache,

because it comes as everything you ever wanted,

til you gave it control.

So suddenly it can make the devil become the hands of a man,

and man who had the power I could never have.

And it told me my body wasn’t even my own,

it said, “You’r ass is too small…your thighs are too big…you call those tits??? You’re fucking kidding me???”

And I’ll only promote you if you give me EVERYTHING.

What happened to my body being my temple?

I’ll tell you right now…

that temple was broken into 

and torn down

on that hot summer day

in the heat of the sun

against the back of that forwheeler

when I couldn’t run….

You see I could tell you the make and the model,

because in that moment I focused on everything but the temple that was starting to break,

and at the age of 13 I didn’t know the power I had….

And since then I never have.

Since then I gave up my power to say no…

Cuz I’m a good little girl!

SO SPANK ME, HIT ME, CUT ME, SLAP ME,

DO WHAT YOU WANT

I DON’T CARE IF IT HURTS

I DON’T CARE IF I BLEED,

BECAUSE I LOVE IT DADDY

YES! YES! PLEASE!

Yes rough sex is better for me,

because the physical pain is better than watching my soul struggle to breath,

from the fact that all I ever wanted was mommy and daddy to love me….

So fuck me and bruise me,

and do what you want to,

because what’ a little whore like me going to do?

At leaset that’s what they tell me,

as society pins me to the bed.

They tell me I’m worthless,

and better off dead.

That women are lesser,

and I have to decide,

between loving a man and a women

or else I should hide,

Hid the emotion,

and the attraction I feel,

because that doesn’t exsist…

That not actually how I feel….

The world is black and white darling,

don’t you see,

a man marries a woman

they have babies

and you stay home and clean.

You know what I say to that?

FUCK THAT!!!

FUCK YOUR SOCIETAL NORMS!!

I will not let you oppress me,

You will not be that hands that cover my screams,

because I can scream loud,

you can not overpower me!

I’m a force to be reckoned with,

and a voice to be heard,

cuz hell hath no fury like a woman scorn,

and lastly,

believe heaven won’t take me,

and I can’t step foot in hell,

because the devil ain’t ready to deal with this little whore!

Without second guessing it…(Poem #64)

Can someone tell me how this happens?

How someone can put their hands on a little girl,

how they can take the most precious thing given to us in this world,

and rip it apart,

how they take the innocence of body and heart,

and at some point age doesn’t matter,

as long as they can they will use their power…

It just baffles me,

hurts me,

and makes me sick,

how people can rape a child without even second guessing it…